


The Art of Kissing

by frecklesarechocolate



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brief mention of Cas and Meg, First Kiss, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 16:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1192719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frecklesarechocolate/pseuds/frecklesarechocolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was inspired by <a href="http://www.brainpickings.org/index.php/2013/02/14/the-art-of-kissing-hugh-morris/">this</a> article.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Kissing

 

Cas finds an [old pamphlet](http://www.brainpickings.org/index.php/2013/02/14/the-art-of-kissing-hugh-morris/) in the bunker one day, and starts flipping through it, intrigued. He reads each page avidly, soaking up the knowledge therein.

Dean finds him halfway through and snorts when he sees the title: “The Art of Kissing.”

"Dude, where’d you find that?" he asks, sitting next to Cas on the couch.

Cas waves his hand vaguely over his shoulder at one of the bookshelves. “Over there. It was stuck between the pages of one of the books on ghouls.”

Dean peers over Cas’s shoulder at the page he’s reading. “The vacuum kiss? What the–” Cas looks up at Dean, startled to realize how close they are. “Cas, this is… this booklet is ridiculous.” He reaches out to take it away from Cas, who snatches it away.

"Don’t." Cas turns so he’s facing away from Dean.

"What? Why not? It’s completely lame. That’s not how you learn how to kiss anyway."

Cas slaps the pamphlet down on the arm of the couch. “I _know_  how to kiss, Dean.” 

Dean grimaces as the image of Cas and Meg, up against a wall, rises unbidden to mind. “Yeah.” Dean scrubs the back of his neck. “So why are you reading that then?”

"Aside from the fact that it’s interesting, and lets me learn more about being human,  _which I now am?”_  Bitter, Cas sports a bitch face that he could only have learned from one Sam Winchester.

"Uh, yeah," Dean says, beginning to feel a little bit like a heel.

Cas huffs a sigh, but doesn’t say anything else. He picks at a thread on his jeans, where the knee’s worn away a bit. Dean waits, thinking that he might get something out of Cas, but Cas’s ability to wait outmatches Dean’s by centuries.

"There are better ways to learn about being human," Dean says. "And kissing." He scoots a little closer. He knows he’s not being subtle, but fuck it, this is  _Cas_.

Cas’s eyes flicker up to Dean’s face and then away. Cas licks his lips, and Dean can see Cas’s pulse tick up a notch in the soft skin beneath his jaw. He couldn’t stop himself from doing what he does next even if he’d wanted to. He presses his lips to the pulse point in Cas’s neck, feeling the warmth of Cas’s skin. Cas’s pulse practically thunders beneath Dean’s lips and Cas exhales explosively above Dean’s head. 

"Dean," Cas whispers.

"Shh," Dean murmurs, and he works his way up Cas’s jaw to his mouth. "Kissing’s much more than technique." He kisses the corner of Cas’s lips, hovering over them, letting his breath tickle at Cas. "It’s about intent." He holds himself away from Cas, and when Cas tries to close the gap between their mouths, he pulls back infinitesimally. "Anticipation."

A low rumble comes from the back of Cas’s throat. Dean chuckles. “It’s about showing the other person that you want them.” He cups Cas’s cheek with his palm and nuzzles their noses together. “About sharing the intimacy of breath.”

"Dean." Breathy, hot against Dean’s cheek.

"It’s about all those things you can’t say with words," Dean says, and then he finally –  _finally_  – slots their mouths together. Cas makes a broken sound that Dean swallows up. Cas sits, warm and solid beneath him, and he tastes like minty toothpaste. Dean takes a moment to wonder why he’s never done  _this_ before, lean in, taste his best friend’s lips, lick a little at his mouth. Cas’s hands settle on his hips, pulling him closer, and there’s no space to think about anything except  _Cas_. The scent of the shampoo Cas used this morning, Dean’s, but smelling different wafting from Cas’s hair. The rasp of his scruff beneath Dean’s palm - it doesn’t seem to matter that it’s been only a few hours since Cas has shaved, the stubble persists.

But mostly, Cas’s mouth beneath his own, their noses bumping gently against each other, the weight of Cas’s hands on him. 

Only their very human need for air tears them apart, and they hover close, nose-to-nose, breathing heavily. Cas’s hand has found its way up underneath Dean’s shirt, and he’s rubbing small circles against Dean’s skin with the pad of his thumb. Dean shivers.

"You see, Cas. It’s not just about where to put your lips or how much pressure to use…"

"Dean." Cas’s voice, low and dark.

"Yeah?"

"Shut up and kiss me," Cas says, and though it’s an order, there’s affection, amusement, fondness in the tone. Cas smiles at Dean, quirks an eyebrow as if to say, "Well?" 

Dean can’t say no to that. So he shuts up. And kisses Cas.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my [tumblr](http://deanhugchester.tumblr.com). Archived here.


End file.
